


The Boy She Loved

by commanderclarke



Category: The 100
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 11:13:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16084976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commanderclarke/pseuds/commanderclarke
Summary: The one where Clarke really just wants to sleep but Murphy won’t let her.





	The Boy She Loved

 

 

> Clarke had been running around all day. Trying to get the other delinquents to work, Bellamy to shut up for five minutes and for Murphy to just sit. Down. She was exhausted, to say the least.
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> Things weren’t going exactly the way she wanted them too. Nothing was. She hadn’t expected for any of this to happen. To come down and to find out that there were still people living down on the ground.
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> She had a lot of work to do, with Bellamy at her side of course. But even he wasn’t exactly helping her situation, and all she wanted to do was be done for the day.
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> It was the end of the night now, the moon tall in the sky wth stars dancing all around it as she made her way over to her tent. She lifted the flap and wandered in, peeling off her jacket and leaving her shoes stranded at the end of her small cot.
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> Clarke flung herself down onto the bed, a long groan leaving her lips. Pulling the covers over to her curled up body, she shut her eyes, hoping for sleep to take her in for the night so she could get up and unfortunately repeat her days work.
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> But a certain sarcastic asshole had other plans.
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> “Hey princess,” she felt her cot dip as he sat down effortlessly. Clarke stretched her legs out, her eyes opening to see a mop of brown hair along with a familiar smirk above her.
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> “What do you want?” Clarke barked, wrapping the blanket tightly around her body, not wanting to move from her very spot anymore.
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> “Everyone’s heading to bed, I think this is a perfect time for us,” Murphy spoke, his eyebrow raised at her. Clarke pushed him off her cot, a moan coming from the ground as he met the floor.
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> “Let me sleep. Unlike you, I was _actually_ busy today,” Clarke explained. Shutting her eyes again, she smiled as she imagined getting a full nights rest. It was unrealistic, and she knew that, but she could just  _imagine._
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> “Ow, thanks a lot Griffin,” Murphy groaned, holding his head as he sat up to look at the blonde. Clarke’s smile disappeared as his voice came to her again, the annoyance she held growing stronger.
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> Her eyes shot open as Murphy threw himself onto the small cot clearly meant for one person.
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> “Murphy, what the hell?!” Clarke yelled, regretting it immediately.
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> “If you keep shouting people will know I’m in here with you,” Murphy grabbed her shoulders, trying to calm her down as he laid on his side next to her, “well maybe that’s not completely a bad thing.” He smirked again, earning a playful slap to the chest from Clarke. 
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> Murphy laughed and pulled Clarke into him. She struggled against his grip but gave in when her head curled into his neck, the warmth from his body radiating off him. He was like her own personal heater.
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> “Mmm,” Clarke hummed to herself, breathing in the scent of John Murphy himself. He smelt like death and pine and she found herself oddly liking it the mixture.
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> She wondered what he smelt like before. Up on the Ark where, although showering wasn’t a direct option, being covered by mud and blood wasn’t the everyday normal thing. But suddenly, remembering the familiar smell of metal and old clothing disgusted her. There was just something about the way that he smelt, and how he made it work. Had it been anyone else and Clarke would’ve felt sick to her stomach.
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> But this was John Murphy. And he was different. And Clarke liked  _different._
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> “I like this.” She admitted to him, not sure if he was still awake or not. She was okay if he wasn’t, if she was just talking to no one, but she felt she needed to say it. “I like...you. Now if someone told me I would feel this way a few weeks ago, I would’ve laughed in their face,” clarke chuckled to herself. Murphy felt the way she made his chest rumble with the vibrations, his stomach getting all fluttery. He carefully snuggled in closer to the older girl.
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> “But here I am, I guess. Here _we_ are.” Clarke sighed, her lips curling up to her cheeks. Murphy may not have been the smartest or the prettiest boy down on the ground. Maybe he made stupid decisions sometimes that could get them killed, but Clarke couldn’t help but love every part of him.
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> “And-“ Clarke stopped herself, bright blue eyes popping open as her own thought sat at the front of her mind. Her words dangled from her lips, desperately trying to escape. She couldn’t say it, though.
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> “Clarke, shhh.” Murphy shushed her. He flipped them over so that he was on hisback and her head rested against his chest. Her sandy hair sprawled out under her. Clarke took a few deep breaths in, then spoke. She had to ask him. She needed to know what he thought. How he felt.
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> “Murphy,” Clarke’s voice wavered. She tucked her arms up between their chests. Murphy made a low sound that was muffled by her hair. His arms held her tight as his hands trailed up her shirt, his fingers tracing shapes on her back. She shook out a chill and lifted her head from his chest. Her hands took the top rim of his shirt into her fingers and rolled it, trying to calm her nerves down.
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> “Everything is so messed up.” Clarke whispered, her big ocean eyes began to shut. Murphy’s own eyes opened now and he saw a few tears fall onto her pillow as she tried her hardest to hold in her feelings. “Am I doing something wrong? Is this all my fault?”
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> He didn’t know how to answer the girl. Things were messed up. _Beyond_  messed up. And maybe some of them were her fault, maybe her decisions had caused all of their current problems. But even if he _did_ believe a part of that, he wouldn’t let her know that.
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> “Clarke,” he grabbed her chin, making her face levelled with his, “it’s not your fault.”
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> “But-“
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> “No. Say it.” He demanded, eyes hard and narrow. Clarke gulped, hesitating.
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> “What?”
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> “I said, say it.” He said more sternly, his forehead creased, eyebrows furrowing as he put some space between them.
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> “It’s not my fault.” Clarke’s voice came out weakly, and it was obvious that she didn’t believe her own words. Which, made Murphy a little angry. Couldn’t she just listen to him? For once?
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> “Louder.”
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> “It’s not my fault.” Clarke said, her voice was more normal this time, the same tone she used everyday. She said it like she was telling him what to do, like what she said earlier. _“I’m tired of your shit, Murphy.”_  He held in a smirk at the memory and glanced down at the blonde.
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> “That’s not good enough. _Louder._ ”
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> “It’s not my fault!” Clarke was nearly yelling at this point, her tears disappearing with the anger she had let seep into her words.
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> “Good,” Murphy murmured, placing a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his eyes fluttering shut. “I’m glad you agree.” He held a tight smile, a small hum coming from his throat. He pulled Clarke back into him, pushing a few stray strands of her hair away from her pale face.
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> Clarke smiled into his chest. They didn’t talk for the rest of the night, and when Clarke was sure that the tall boy fell into a deep sleep, she pulled her blanket over both of their bodies and rolled over. Murphy had instinctively cuddled right into her, his arm thrown over her waist lazily and his hair tickled her cheek.
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> With that, she fell asleep to the sound of his light snoring and the wind whistling outside, kids still chattering and she was almost certain she heard Bellamy sneaking around outside. Maybe with a girl. Maybe on his own. She didn’t care. She only cared about where she was right then.
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> And that was with the boy she loved.
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**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first ship one shot I’ve actually ever written?? and i’m not very good at third person writing so please go easy on me. but I hope you guys enjoyed it :)


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